


Loser

by BG97



Category: GOT7, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Bottom Bang Chan, Friends With Benefits, Idols, Kissing, M/M, Top Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam, dumb boys, implied marathon sex, mentions of rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BG97/pseuds/BG97
Summary: He’s not sure what it is, exactly. Maybe it’s just that he likes the dumb jokes and making fun of each other while they get off, or maybe he likes how easy and simple it is - how they can just fall into each other’s beds once every few months like they were never apart and then go their separate ways afterwards without it ever getting awkward… Maybe he likes that they’re close but not too close, anymore, or maybe he likes how naturally they work together even after all this time…Or maybe he just likes Chris’s body, which would be valid, too, he supposes.Alternatively: Outtake from fuckbuddies bamchan celebrating Bambam's birthday <3
Relationships: Bang Chan & Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam, Bang Chan/Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam
Comments: 5
Kudos: 173





	Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Bamchan birthday sex? Bamchan birthday sex.
> 
> Welcome, friends!
> 
> I got this idea a bit last minute and writing hasn't been coming to me very naturally recently, so this is a little late, but I really wanted to write something for Bambam's birthday! I've also been wanting to write this pairing for a while and this was a great excuse so... here!
> 
> I'm pretty sure I failed completely to write Bam and his speech patterns in particular but... you know... I tried, lol.
> 
> (Also we didn't get a vlive but I just... why not write it in lol)
> 
> Unedited, unbetaed, we die like men.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy <3

“You’re such a fucking loser.”

Bambam’s lips pull into a tense smile, eyes wide as he turns to where Chris is leaning against the doorframe, face scrunched up in a dimpled smile, broad shoulders shaking with laughter. “Is that how you speak to your seniors, Christopher?”

Chris just laughs harder, collapsing his weight against the threshold. Every laugh makes his abs clench, and his pecs are filling out  _ just  _ enough that there’s the slightest jiggle there.

Nice.

“I can’t believe you’re making fun of me on my fucking birthday, you asshole.” Bambam actually can definitely believe it.

“I can’t believe you did your vlive naked with my cum still dripping from your ass.”

He just scoffs, flopping back into the crumpled blankets, stretching his arms over his head and arching his back in a dramatic stretch. Chris’s laughter dies.

Victory.

“I thought you took care of that.” Bambam pouts up at the ceiling. He doesn’t even have to wait before Chris is taking his bait, mattress dipping under his weight as he climbs through Bambam’s spread thighs and over his body, a deep noise dragged out of his throat. He glances down his nose and sees nothing but miles of pale skin and toned muscles, only disrupted by the versace boxers Chris has not been subtle about showing off.

G-d Chris just gets hotter every time Bambam sees him, nicer and nicer clothes, muscles, ways to make him cum… and it’s been so long since they last made time for this.

“Are you critiquing my ass eating capabilities?”

Bambam bursts out laughing, the sound too loud in the quiet, morning air filling his apartment. “You’re such a fucking idiot.” Chris’s confused expression, hovering over Bambam’s face, is stupidly cute, and it just makes him laugh harder. “You’re the one who said there was still cum in my ass.”

“Oh.” Chris’s pretty lips catch on his jaw as he leans in, hiding his blushing face from view, broad, strong body eclipsing Bam’s own. His laughter slowly dissolves into a sigh, smirk playing at his lips as he relaxes into Chris’s familiar touch.

No matter how long they go between, few people know Bambam’s body like Chris does.

And the body above him is both familiar and foreign in a fun and exhilarating way. The tongue that’s tracing a line up his jaw is all Chris, just like goofy, huffing laughter or pinpoint dimples set into soft skin or the songs that played on the radio in 2010, like messy, bleached curls or hushed giggles in the dark or lilting speech he used to never completely understand.

But the hard lines and firm muscles his hands settle over are new and exciting every time, always a bit of a surprise even though he should be getting used to them. The heat of his body, the strength in his grip, the confidence in every movement... there’s a part of him that might always think of Chris as the scrawny, dorky boy he used to room with, but that just makes it all the more fun when he gets this Chris on top of him; he’s still the same dorky, lame, adorable idiot... 

Except now he’s also fucking hot.

His fingers trace the defined lines of Chris’s abdomen, loving how it clenches and flexes under his touch, letting his head tilt back to give the younger man more room to work on the bruise his plush lips are sucking into the side of his throat, moaning wetly as the sensitive skin is abused.

His makeup artist is going to have some choice words for him when he shows up for his schedule.

It’s definitely worth it.

And he thinks it’s cute that this is how Chris chose to distract him.

“Mmm maybe since you’re so worried about it, you should double check."

"Hm?" Chan's sloppy kisses trail up his neck, to the hinge of his jaw, down to his chin, and then finally up to Bambam's own. He hums appreciatively into the kiss, but his dick is starting to show interest, even after already cumming earlier.

"Eat my ass again, Chris."

Chris snorts right in Bambam's face which should be fucking gross, but it just makes him laugh, too.

"Very creative," Chris giggles, body shaking under Bambam's hands, "you really liked it that much?"

Yeah, he actually really fucking did. Waking up to Chris kissing down his body and spreading his legs to  _ make out _ with his hole, still filthy and sensitive from just a few short hours earlier… or whenever they'd finally passed out… Bambam would be thinking about that for a long time.

A long time.

But Chris  _ does _ have a point.

It's his birthday, after all.

"Hmm did you have another present in mind?"

“How much time do we have?”

Bambam grins, eyes flicking over Chris’s stupidly pretty face, “enough.”

“That’s not mm-” Chris’s words are cut off when Bambam flexes his fingers in the other man’s bleached hair, yanking him down to feel those soft, swollen lips against his own again, humming contentedly as he sucks and nips at them. Chris is such a good fucking kisser, following Bam’s lead when directed, but also knowing exactly when to take charge, pressing his weight down onto Bambam’s thin body, deepening the kiss.

Chris is warm and heavy on top of him, one hand smoothing over his short, white hair, the other tracing patterns into his ribcage, hips pressing down and forcing Bambam’s legs to spread wider to accommodate. The ache in his sore muscles makes heat flare up in his stomach.

And there’s nothing quite like grinding against a cock that’s all dressed up in Versace for him.

“Wanna- mmm wanna fuck me?”

Bambam’s smile catches on Chris’s lips as it spreads across his face. “Oooh it really must be my birthday!”

“Shut the fuck up, you literally topped last night,” Chris groans against his mouth, their foreheads bumping together.

“Yeah, between rounds ‘cause you couldn’t keep up.” Chris’s whine just makes Bambam laugh harder as the younger man buries his face in his shoulder.

“D’you wanna or no?”

“Are you just trying to trick me into doing all the work?” Even as the words leave Bambam’s mouth, he’s fumbling for the lube they’d lost somewhere in the sheets last night. Chris’s body pressing down on him doesn’t help, but he’s warm and Bam thinks it’s cute when Chris gets all clingy. Keeps that whole buff jock fuckboy persona in check.

His fingers close over the hard plastic of the bottle; he winces at the sticky residue that promptly clings to his skin.

“I can ride you,” Chris hums against his shoulder, tongue slipping out to lick lazily at the skin there. 

“How generous,” Bambam grins. He slides his hand down the hard lines of Chris’s back, down into the little dip at the bottom of his spine and then up and over the firm curve of his ass. He squeezes a handful roughly before slapping it… just because he knew Chris’s reaction would be funny - and it is - and it’s also hot to watch it jiggle a bit over his friend’s shoulder.

“Ow! Fuck!” Chris is quick to retaliate with a well-aimed pinch on the sensitive skin of Bambam’s underarm, and his balls and half-chub get at least a little crushed under Chris’s weight when the other man jerks and starts trying to squirm away, but it was worth it.

“Get up here.” He grabs the waistband of Chris’s underwear, tugging it back and letting go, laughing at the satisfying snap it makes. Of course, Chris manages to get his limbs back under him at that moment and he ends up with a  _ very _ threatening hand around his balls.

“It’s my birthday!”

“You suck,” Chris groans, but he drops his hand and opts for a halfhearted smack against Bambam’s thigh instead. He manages to maneuver so he’s straddling Bam’s waist, huffing down at him like he isn’t tenting the front of his underwear. Bambam just grins and tugs him down so his chest is hovering over the older man’s face and his ass is sticking out.

Bam casually tugs the waistband down with one hand so it’s caught stretched just below his ass while the other pops the lid on the bottle.

Chris squirms above him. “Can I take these off?”

“No? They’re hot.”

“I don’t wanna stretch ‘em out…”

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” Bambam rolls his eyes as he skillfully pours lube onto his fingers blind, tossing the bottle away so it can get swallowed back up by the sheets where it belongs. Playing hide and seek with the lube is one of the fun parts about getting laid.

“Don’t drip lube on them.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair, they’re not even expensive,” Bambam laughs, teasing his cold fingers around Chris’s still puffy rim, liking the way his body jerks. He has a perfect view of Chris’s abs flexing with each breath in this position.

And there is something really hot about seeing that waistband stretched taut around Chris’s spread thighs, digging into his skin on either side, that million dollar logo distorted right over where his cock is straining against the fabric.

He slips two fingers easily into Chris’s hole, humming appreciatively as the man above him shudders. 

G-d, he loves fucking.

And he loves being fucked, too, of fucking course, but there’s something so primally satisfying about stetching someone open, giving and expecting them to take, sinking fingers or his cock or whatever into a tight, slick hole.

And Bambam’s feeling just sentimental enough - birthdays tend to do that to you - that he’s almost tempted to wax fucking poetic about Chris’s ass because he totally could if he wanted to.

Chris is  _ far  _ from the only person Bambam fucks, and there’s absolutely no illusion that Chris is any different. He was just telling him all about his new favorite everyday fuckbuddy from his group, but it’s honestly a bit hard to keep them straight - at least, their relationship with Chris’s dick, that is. But that being said, Bambam really likes fucking Chris.

He’s not sure what it is, exactly. Maybe it’s just that he likes the dumb jokes and making fun of each other while they get off, or maybe he likes how easy and simple it is - how they can just fall into each other’s beds once every few months like they were never apart and then go their separate ways afterwards without it ever getting awkward… Maybe he likes that they’re close but not  _ too _ close, anymore, or maybe he likes how naturally they work together even after all this time…

Or maybe he just likes Chris’s body, which would be valid, too, he supposes.

And, man… Chris’s ass.

He likes to think it was his own comments that made Chris stop skipping over glutes in his workouts, but even if it wasn’t, it’s finally paying off and Bambam gets to reap the rewards all the same… not that his own is much to “write home about” as Chris had teased him once, but it’s like…  _ supposed  _ to be one of the perks of fucking around with muscle heads.

None of that really matters, though, because it’s Chris’s  _ hole _ he really loves. All holes are more or less the same in the important ways, but he  _ swears _ Chris is just a little bit hotter, a little bit softer, a little bit tighter inside than all his other fuckbuddies. He’s really appreciating that now as he slips a third inside just because - it’s not really like Chris needs much prep, this is more for fun than anything.

Bambam’s free hand falls into his lap, stroking up the length of his cock as he twists and spreads his fingers around, drinking up all the soft hitches in Chris’s breathing, the little whines he lets out every time he manages to sink deep enough to brush that spot - even with the weird angle. 

He’s hot.

And it is always a bit of a power trip to fuck someone so much physically stronger than he is, having Chris’s broad, powerful body shuddering on top of him… it’s hot.

Bam leans forward to suck one of Chris’s nipples into his mouth, huffing a laugh around it when the younger man moans loudly-

“Wait, why is there no music?” Chris bursts out laughing and that feels kinda weird and kinda hot around his fingers. Nice.

“You just had your phone…”

“I guess… I’ll... let you pick the music if you find it…” Bambam offers hesitantly, absentmindedly twisting his fist around his dick and shallowly fucking the fingers of his other hand in and out of Chris’s ass. 

Sometimes sacrifices must be made.

“Deal.” He can literally hear the smile in Chris’s voice. Fucking dork.

He lets his lubey fingers slip out so Chris can crawl away, patting at the sheets, his slick ass spilling out over the stretched waistband of his Versace boxers and on perfect display. 

Nice.

It makes him feel a little better when it takes a solid minute for him to extract the phone from Bambam’s sheets - he wouldn’t have had the patience for that - and he also finds the lube, again, so that’s a plus, too.

And at least he goes for the Weeknd and not like… Jason Mraz or Coldplay or some shit.

Chris doesn’t seem amused when he voices that observation, but that alone is pretty funny for Bambam.

“Don’t you have a schedule today or something?” Chris asks as he tosses Bambam’s phone to the other side of the bed, letting it become one with the sheets once again as Abel’s beats and smooth voice stream from Bam’s surround sound. “Do we have to hurry?”

Bambam groans overdramatically, tossing his head back. He can feel the bed shake as Chris finally wrestles out of his underwear. Shame. “Music Core in a few hours, gimme the lube, I want a long shower.”

The last thing he wants to do is rush the last round of his birthday sex, but he’ll take what he can get and it’s not like he’s going to complain about getting his dick in Chris’s ass sooner.

Chris doesn’t give him the lube, instead he climbs back into position, straddling Bam’s waist, and twists around to pour more directly onto Bambam’s cock before the older man can think to stop him. He hisses and flinches as liquid ice drips down his length - how is lube always the coldest fucking thing ever? - but he lets Chris’s hand replace his own, spreading it down, even if he doesn’t much care for the satisfied smile on his face. Ass.

It’s hard to be mad when he’s turned on, though, and Chris doesn’t fuck around, lining himself up and sinking steadily down on his cock.

And, g-d, Chris is so fucking hot like this, eyes heavy lidded and watching Bambam’s reactions closely, full lips parted on a deep moan, unstyled hair framing his flushed face in an absolute mess. The muscles in his thighs and abs flex and strain as he balances and seats himself back, drawing defined lines that all lead straight to his leaking cock, bobbing in the air between them.

And nothing beats the feeling of being suddenly encased in tight, wet heat.

_ Fuck _ , Chris is such a good fuck.

“Feel good?” An arrogant fuck.

Bambam gives him a fake smile. “Yes, dear, now are you gonna-”

“ _ She ask me if I do this everyday-” _

Chris smirks and rolls his hips in time with the beat, sucking his bottom lip in, eyes slipping closed as he settles into the rhythm.

_ Fuck _ .

Bambam’s hands land on Chris’s shifting thighs, a deep, appreciative groan rumbling in his chest as heat pools in his belly. This is the fourth time they’ve  _ properly _ fucked in less than twenty-four hours, and it feels just as good as the first time, but all the better because there’s no frantic impatience, no racing towards that first glorious finish line like they’ll die without it…

Just two bodies making each other feel good.

One hand slips up Chris’s hip, closing around his cock and just letting the motions of the younger man fuck into it. It draws a gorgeous noise from Chris’s throat as his head tips back.

He seriously makes such a pretty picture. Confidence and bliss look good on Chris.

“Feel good?”

“Shut up,” Chris grits out. The song fades into another with a faster beat, slightly higher bpm, and the younger man takes the opportunity to rise up and drop himself back down, catching the rhythm easily as he rides Bambam’s cock.

_ “-Said I’m heartless, so much pussy it be falling out-” _

“Did you pick a playlist that’s  _ just _ the Weeknd?” Bambam’s grin widens when Chris gives him a hard look, slamming his hips down harder. His dick is leaking so much in Bambam’s hand, sliding slickly through his fist.

It’s honestly so fucking hot to look down his own thin body, lean muscles he’s worked so hard for fitted tightly to his slim bone structure, to see  _ Chris  _ riding his cock, all broad shoulders and built definition, wide and sturdy where Bambam is small and slight. 

There’s just something satisfying about the size difference,  _ traditional role subversion,  _ if you will.

Whatever.

It’s hot.

They don’t have a real reason to rush, realistically have quite a lot of time left before they have to be done, so Bambam’s just letting himself appreciate how good it feels, the view, but it’s only halfway through the third song when Chris’s thigh starts to shake under his hand, when his breathing picks up, sweat starting to glisten in the sleepy morning light. He starts taking more frequent breaks to grind down, hands eventually planting on the bed.

Bambam just watches, amused even as he starts to miss the friction.

He’ll make Chris admit defeat.

It’s more fun that way,  _ especially  _ because Chris is Chris, and he’s always been hopelessly competitive or prideful or whatever.

It’s not until he collapses to his elbows, a frustrated noise bursting forward that they both break.

“Tired already?”

“Fuck you.”

“I can’t believe you even make it through performances with stamina like this.”

“Fuck. You.”

“I’d probably still give you a B, maybe, decent effort.”

“I hate you so fucking much.”

“Chris! It’s my  _ birthday _ !” Bambam laughs, slapping Chris’s ass, “now get up, I actually wanna get off this decade.”

“You  _ suck.” _

Chris literally trembles as he pushes himself up and off Bambam’s dick which is adorable and just makes him laugh more. He flops down on his back with a shaky huff, body sinking into the mattress while Bam slips easily between his spread thighs, tugging at his hips until he lifts them long enough to shove a random doubled-over pillow under his lower back.

Strong, in charge Chris is hot, but shaky, exhausted, splayed out Chris is arguably even hotter.

“Poor thing,” Bambam coos teasingly as he slides right back into Chris, humming appreciatively as he clenches down, “this better?”

“You’re the worst,” Chris huffs, but he’s already starting to catch his breath, again, and moans when Bambam starts to earnestly thrust, catching the rhythm of the music - yeah, it’s all the Weeknd, typical. He hasn’t even heard this song before, and the beat seems fast, but the bpm is deceptively slow; he doesn’t mind going double-time, his arousal picking up again as his hips snap against Chris’s.

It’s nice to let someone ride him, but, man, he really loves the physicality of  _ fucking _ sometimes. He likes watching Chris squirm and gasp, bite his swollen lips, become a whole mess just because of him.

He’s not going to last much longer.

He wraps his fist back around Chris’s cock, pumping more or less in time with his thrusts… he’s already a bit over following the music, but Chris doesn’t seem to mind.

“Fuck,” Chris chokes out, voice wet and heavy. His face and chest are so flushed, pink spreading across his pale skin, veins popping out at his temples, on his arms, spider webbing across the thin skin of his lower abdomen. “Bam-  _ fuck _ .”

“What do you think I’m-”

“Shut up, oh my  _ g-d _ ,” Chris huffs out in breathless laughter, and wow, yeah, that feels extra weird and extra good on his dick.

Bambam clenches his jaw, adjusting his grip on Chris’s thigh to give himself better leverage as he speeds up, boney hips slapping against the younger man’s ass, abs and back and thighs starting to ache, but  _ fuck _ it feels so fucking good and he’s so  _ close. _

He twists his hand roughly around the head of Chris’s dick, just the way he likes - even if his form is understandably suffering. It doesn’t matter.

“Fuck! Ah,  _ shit _ , Bam I’m-” His orgasm cuts him off, jaw locking open and face twisting up into that embarrassing face Bambam loves to tease him for, but his whole body is tensing up tightly as he makes a mess of the older man’s hand and Bam’s about to lose it.

He barely gives Chris time to finish cumming before he’s falling on him, messy hands gripping at his shoulders, face buried in his chest and-

Oh _ , fuck _ .

He distantly registers himself making the noise Chris loves to tease him for as every muscle in his body spasms, hips pumping arrhythmically through it, fingernails digging crescent-shaped bruises into his friend’s shoulders.

_ Fuck _ .

“Wow.”

Bambam laughs dumbly, nuzzling his forehead against Chris’s shoulder as reality slowly starts to slip back into place around them.

The Weeknd is still droning through his speakers.

“Next time, no matter what, I’m picking the music.”

“The Weeknd is great sex music!”

“Not  _ only _ the Weeknd, though, dude, gimme some  _ variety _ .”

Chris huffs, flopping his heavy ass arms over Bambam’s back.

“I’m picking the music.”

“I wasn’t arguing!” 

“Say it.”

“Oh my  _ g-d _ ,” Chris groans, only for it to be broken by his goofy laugh, “you, Kunpimook Bhuwakuwal Bambam, can pick the music next time.”

“Was that so hard?” Bambam grins. Chris’s chest is sweaty and gross against his cheek, and the cum on his hand is getting tacky… they’re both filthy.

“What are the odds I could convince you to carry me to the shower?”

“Zero.”

“But Chris! It’s my  _ birthdayyy _ ,” Bambam whines, the exhaustion from last night and barely sleeping and then cumming  _ twice  _ this morning…

Fuck, he has a performance today.

“Tapped out, sorry, dude.”

And then he’s promptly shoved off Chris’s chest.

“You’re such an  _ ass _ .”

Chris is already off the bed, stretching wide and obnoxious with a bright smile on his face.

“You love me, though.”

“Do not.”

“You do,” Chris giggles, offering a hand down to him. Bambam grabs it with his cummy one out of spite and laughs at the look of horror that flashes brilliantly across Chris’s face. “I fucking hate you.” 

“Do not,” Bambam sing songs, grinning as he’s tugged from the bed.

Unfortunately, his reflexes aren’t fast enough when Chris’s unhappy expression suddenly splits into a smile…

He ends up with cooling, half-tacky cum smeared across his cheek.

Chris’s goofy, laughing voice barely cuts through his shriek.

“Happy birthday, dude.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh! Thank you for making it to the end!
> 
> Kudos and comments are _always_ appreciated! Either on here, Twitter, or CC! Let me know what you thought <3
> 
> Twitter: [NoahBG97](https://twitter.com/NoahBG97)  
> CC: [BG1997](https://curiouscat.me/BG1997)


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